Different Strokes
by Your Iron Lung
Summary: For different folks.


It's weird imagining people you know having sex. Have you ever tried? Right now, picture your best friend doing the deed with some attractive stranger; wasn't that odd? Well, perhaps it's not as weird for you as it is for him, but that doesn't stop him from doing it. It's weird, creepy, and probably unhealthy, but he continues to do it anyway.

It doesn't get him off or anything like that; it's not some sick, perverted fetish he likes to indulge in, though he's sure if his friends knew what he did they'd probably label it as such. He just wants to get to know his them as best he can, and as odd though it may seem, sex at their age is a normal, though intimate, everyday part of their lives. He feels it gives him a better sense of character to imagine them doing something so personal.

If that wasn't creepy enough, he admits that he likes to picture them masturbating, too. He's sure it brings out characteristics in people that normally wouldn't be unearthed otherwise.

He imagines Conrad cries while he strokes himself, dressed in a nice shirt with pants folded neatly over a chair. He bets Conrad cries because he's lonely and desperate for anothers touch, but too angry and afraid to actually go that far. He thinks Conrad is probably insecure and confused, frustrated that he has to succumb to such sinful, carnal desires he'd like to think himself above as he continues. It makes him feel bad for the man, but at least he feels he can understand him and why he's always on edge a bit better.

He's pretty sure Worth would go about doing it differently on different days depending on his mood (either he'd really go at it or he'd take his time, just enjoying himself in his own way as he usually did). It shows his lackadaisical, 'I don't give a fuck' attitude towards everything, as he'd be way too lazy to actually go out of his way to find someone to bang. The way he see's it, if Worth's horny, he'll act on it. If there's a girl nearby who's willing to sleep with him, he'll probably sleep with her, but otherwise he can't be bothered to give a shit and find someone to stick his dick in when his hand can get the job done. Too much of a commitment he's not willing to be a part of.

He can't quite figure out how Ples would get it done, as the man is way too hard to read normally and is just a walking, tikking enigma. Perhaps Veser is right in thinking he's asexual, and so he concurs that Ples has no sex drive and leaves it at that. Or if he did, he'd be awkward, prim and proper about it.

He doesn't think Lamont would bother to lay a hand to himself; he seems the type to always have a womans number on call should the need arise. If the mans cock wanted attention, then by God Lamont would go out and find someone to please it. He's a giant schmooze, and if the stories Worth's told him about his womanizing days are true and anything to go by, then that shouldn't be too much of a problem for the delivery man. And it's not like Lamont's ever denied them anyway.

He likes to think that Toni's cheeks would be flushed and her eyes would be screwed shut the entire time (and, he admits, that mental image does kind of get a rise out of him, though he never acts on it. Could you imagine trying to face her in the eye after wanking to that?), and while she's not proud of the fact that she's pleasuring herself, she's not ashamed of it, either. She's a very strong and proud woman who wouldn't deny the fact that she masturbates should the subject ever arise, but she wouldn't be the one to bring it up. If she was embarrassed to masturbate, then she'd probably be a lot shyer, more soft-spoken, and he's glad that Toni's the way she is.

Veser is another challenge. While being a self-proclaimed ladies man and womanizer of many talents, he highly doubts the half-selkie teen actually gets any; he's much too crude and awkward to be sexually alluring. He's bold and brash, and that leads him to believe that Veser probably uses toys and other things to help get the job done; a proud young boy who's eager to show all he's got if only someone'd give him half the chance. He wonders if that makes Veser spiteful, since it seems the teen has always been undermined in some way most his life.

Not even his roommate, whom he doubts can even get it up anymore seeing as how he's roughly at least 10 years dead, is excluded from his odd habit. He pictures him with his glowing eyes closed gently, a sort of soft, barely there smile on his lips as he hums somewhere deep in his throat. The green mans hands would go slow and strong, casually calculating what's best and enjoying it on his own time in his own way, much like his personality.

As for himself, Hanna can't say he's all that fond of masturbating. He tries his damndest to beat back the urges as best he can, but he does understand that he is 24, a boy-man in the prime of his sexuality, and does give in on the rare occasion. He crouches over himself, his glasses half sliding down his nose as he focuses intently on what he's doing. He likes to give it his all, as he does with anything he does normally, but he doesn't like to make a grand show of it.

The thing he wonders most about after he's done (his zombie companion conveniently gone) is if any of the others picture him doing what he imagines them to do, and he wonders briefly if any of them get him right. And if that's not creepy, then he doesn't know what is, but it's a comforting thought just to be on someones mind like that.


End file.
